


Five Points

by TheMightyFlynn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fade to Black, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious, Quidditch, Seekers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27569788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyFlynn/pseuds/TheMightyFlynn
Summary: Draco is happy with his arrangement with Harry. That is, until Pansy butts in and voices an opinion that Draco can't stop thinking about: that he only needs five points in Harry's favour in order for their arrangement to become a real relationship.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 245
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2020





	Five Points

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spookywoods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookywoods/gifts).



> Spookywoods, I found your prompts really interesting! I took the quote "You are my soul's deepest mystery. You hold me so close; yet so far", oblivious, misunderstandings, Quidditch, rivals, and them both having separate friends and kind of squished them all in together. I hope you like it!

"You're in a _relationship_ , Draco; face it."

"No. No!" Pacing in front of the fire in the informal loungeroom of the Manor, Draco frowned down at Pansy. " _No_."

Pansy sighed. Sitting on the dark blue suede three-seater with her legs tucked up beneath her, she shook her head.

"Let's run through the evidence one more time, shall we?"

Draco stopped his pacing to respond, but Pansy prevented him with a look. Holding up one hand, she began to count things off on her fingers.

"Number one: you have been together for… three years, yes?"

Draco sighed. "Not _together_ together, no. But, yes."

"Alright. Together for a significant amount of time. That's one." Pansy lowered a finger. "Secondly, you get pissed off when the papers report that he is seeing someone else. Number three: you know what he has for breakfast _and_ keep it in the Manor's kitchen."

"Oh, come on, Pans, you know that–"

"Four," Pansy interrupted him loudly, waggling a finger at him. "He has a drawer in your wardrobe for when he spends the night. And I'm willing to bet you have one in his."

Draco's lips pressed together. His hands clenched by his sides, but he didn't say a word. Pansy grinned.

"Five is that I keep seeing you giving him gooey eyes every time you're in the same room."

That was more than enough. Shaking his head, Draco marched over to the sidebar and poured himself a whisky.

" _Gooey eyes_ , really? When have I ever given anyone gooey eyes?"

Pansy's grin widened when Draco turned back to face her. He rolled his eyes.

"I see it every time you look at _him_ , Draco."

"You're insane. And so is your so-called _five points system_."

"It isn't a system, Draco, you know that. It's logic. I keep telling you that and you keep ignoring me." She grinned at him. "And what _logic_ is telling me is that you are in a relationship."

Swirling his drink in the glass, he slowly made his way over so he could sit on the opposite end of the lounge. "This isn't a relationship. It's sex."

"And breakfast. And drawers in the wardrobe. And jealousy over imagined boyfriends." Raising her glass, Pansy imitated clinking the two together. "Of course, none of that means _anything_ to you, does it, Draco? This is just sex, that's all. Nothing more. And, if he manages to find someone who he wants to have more than 'just sex' with, you'll be perfectly fine with that, right?"

The smile she gave him when he sighed again was too knowing for Draco's liking. What he had was simple, and easy. He liked it because it didn't cause any real issues in his life. If they met up, that was fine. If they didn't, then that was fine as well. He had no commitments, and no one to answer to when he didn't want to. It was _fine_. He shook his head again as he took a sip of whisky.

"You're still insane, no matter what you think."

Placing her empty glass on the coffee table before them, Pansy leant in close. "Five points, Draco. If you can raise five points based off reasons the two of you are good together, then what you have together is more than you think it is." Leaning even closer, she placed a soft kiss on his forehead. "Ask yourself tonight when you see him: what are the five points?"

*~*

Draco grunted as he was pushed back against the wall. His head bounced off the plaster, but he didn't object; he rarely did. Hot lips sealed over his own, pressing him back into the wall. Hands clawed at his robes, trying to force them off him. He let out a low sound when the kiss was broken.

"Draco." Harry's bright eyes gazed up at him, the pupils wide. His lips were glistening with saliva, and they parted as he panted. "What's wrong?"

"I…"

_Five points, Draco._

He shook his head. Fucking Pansy messing with his head!

"Nothing, nothing. Just tired."

Harry stared at him for longer than he was comfortable with. There was something in his eyes; some kind of emotion that Draco couldn't quite identify. It sent confusion rushing through him, but he tried to ignore it. Leaning forward, he nipped at Harry's lips.

"Do you want this or not, Potter?"

Harry took another couple of seconds before responding. When he did, it was with a grin that sent Draco's nerves singing with pleasure.

"Come here and lie down. Let me do all the work tonight."

Draco allowed himself to be pulled back into Harry's loungeroom. A wash of Harry's magic removed all of their clothing as Harry turned to face him, then pushed him down onto the lounge. Licking his lips, Draco ran his eyes along Harry's body.

He was lean, but not the skinny kid Draco had known back in school. Years of professional Quidditch – playing Seeker for the Wasps, against Draco's Puddlemere – had given him tight muscles that flexed nicely as he moved. Biting his bottom lip, Draco tried not to grin.

"Well?"

Harry didn't speak. They rarely needed to these days. It was so easy to read each other, to be able to tell what the other needed at that point in time, that they just _did_ things rather than asking permission. They knew what the other wanted, and they went for it. Draco's mind immediately told him that this was one point of the five he needed, but he ignored it. Focussing on the pleasure Harry was bringing him, his eyes drifted closed and he gave in to the sensations.

Warmth flooded through his chest as they lay together on the lounge afterwards. Slick with sweat and panting, Draco ran light touches up and down Harry's back. He smiled when Harry shivered.

This part had always come rather easily to them as well. The fact that they didn't need to speak to communicate tended to extend to these quiet moments as well. Wrapping one arm around Harry's waist, he held him close as his eyes drifted closed.

"Big match tomorrow," Harry murmured after a few minutes.

Draco frowned. He had been quite content, just lying there with Harry's weight pressing him into the lounge. Instead of responding properly, he merely hummed, hoping it would shut him up.

"You think you're up for it?"

Draco groaned as Harry pushed himself up. A quick cleansing charm washed over him, causing his frown to deepen. Cleansing charms never made him feel properly clean, but he put up with them, because Harry seemed to not mind.

"What are you–"

"The _game_ tomorrow, Draco. Come on."

Draco watched as Harry stood and began to dress. Confusion flooded him, clouding his mind. They had been comfortable on the lounge; why would Harry want to move? Sure, they never spoke afterwards, but this was different. Harry hadn't ever really pushed him away like this before. The warmth he had been feeling drained slowly as he forced himself up and began to dress as well. So much for his rest, he figured, as he followed Harry into the study.

*~*

"…and it's Felix with the Quaffle. The Puddlemere Chasers have been stellar this year with their ability to keep their opponents away from the ball."

Draco tried to ignore the call of the match. Sweeping his gaze over the pitch, he kept a close watch for the Snitch. Swooping along the length of the pitch, he knew by the sound of the crowd that Harry was keeping close to him.

"My broom is faster than yours, Potter," he called over his shoulder as they turned at one end of the pitch and began a sweep of the opposite side.

"You need the skill to fly it, though, Malfoy."

Draco grinned. Playing against Harry was one of the true pleasures in his life. They had always been competitive, but this was something else. He glanced back over his shoulder as the crowd gasped.

"Potter's seen the Snitch! Potter's seen the Snitch!"

Draco dove. He didn't know what he was after, but he knew he had to get there before Harry did. A small glint of gold out of the corner of his eye had him swerving just a second before Harry did. His hand closed around the cold metal, Harry's fingernails scraping along the back of his hand. He yanked his broom up, trying to pull out of the dive before he crashed.

The sound of the crowd filled his ears, a roar so loud he could feel it to his core. His teammates piled in on top of him as he drifted slowly to the ground.

"Yes, Draco!"

"Well done!"

"We beat them, we fucking beat them!"

Draco's cheeks hurt from smiling. Puddlemere had been on a roll that year, but the fact that Harry was the Seeker for the Wimbourne Wasps only made this victory sweeter for Draco. Hands slapped his back, and ruffled his hair, accompanied by shouted congratulations. By the time the Wasps lined up to congratulate them, Draco felt as though he was floating. He joined the end of his team's line and waited rather impatiently to shake the other team's hands. He was, of course, watching Harry the entire time.

"Congratulations, Malfoy."

Harry was breathless, his cheeks a bright red. His thumb rubbed subtly over the back of Draco's hand. Licking his lips, Draco's smile widened.

"Good game. Maybe you'll get lucky next time."

Draco hung around signing autographs longer than usual that day. His teammates had all come and gone, but he waited, watching the entrance to the locker rooms. When it seemed to him that all of the Wasps had showered and left, he gave his apologies to those remaining, and walked slowly down the hall. A quick glance around told him that there was no one watching him as he pushed the door to the Wasps' locker room open and slipped inside.

"Took you long enough."

Draco grinned. Steam rose out of shower block, filling the small space entirely. He quickly stripped off and moved to stand in the doorway to the showers.

"Had to make sure no one saw me, didn't I?"

If Draco hadn't been prepared for it, the sight before him would have stolen his breath away. It was damn close, as it was. Harry stood leaning back against the tiles of one of the showers. Hot water streamed over him, making his skin glisten. His cheeks were still flushed, and his eyes were bright with what Draco knew to be desire. As his eyes trailed slowly down Harry's body, Draco couldn't help smiling.

"Started without me, Potter?"

"C'mere, or I'll _finish_ without you as well."

The exhilaration of flying had always worked Draco up, even back in school. The fact that he now got paid to fly against Harry made the sensations all the better. Hot water cascaded over them, washing away the dirt and sweat from the game and, eventually, the evidence of their activities. Draco was breathing heavily as he slid slowly to the floor.

"Fucking _hell_."

Harry's responding chuckle sounded tired. "You know," he began as he settled down with Draco against the tiles. "You always work harder when you've won."

"Please," Draco scoffed, shaking his head. Raising an arm, he adjusted his position so Harry could fit in comfortably against his chest. His eyes slid closed as a sense of contentment washed through him. "You think I don’t work hard usually?"

Sliding his fingers down Draco's chest, Harry let out another small laugh. "Well, you're certainly _hard_ enough…"

Draco groaned. "That's a terrible joke, Potter."

He met Harry's gaze as he reopened his eyes. Staring up at him, Harry looked… Happy. Warmth flooded Draco's chest as he leant down to nip at Harry's lips.

"No _hard_ feelings about the loss, then?"

Harry's laugh – loud and strangely contagious – rang out in the shower block. "So, it's fine for _you_ to make bad sex jokes, but not me? Nice." Leaning forward, he bumped their foreheads together. "No, of course not. I'll just have work harder to beat you next time."

Unable to help himself, Draco nudged Harry's head back so he could capture his lips in a soft kiss. He tried desperately to ignore the small voice in the back of his mind telling that Harry's ability to not hold professional grudges was the second point in his favour. He let out a small moan as the fingers Harry had trailing down his chest stopped just short of his pubic hair. The moan turned to a surprised gasp, however, as Harry pulled away from him.

"I should go over some of the team strategies."

Draco blinked in confusion. "What?"

Harry was pushing himself up and away from him. Turning the shower off, he glanced over his shoulder with a small, almost impersonal smile.

"Can't let you keep beating me to the Snitch like that, can I? It'd ruin my reputation."

The warmth left Draco rapidly as his mind scrambled to catch up with what was happening. This was the second time in two days that Harry had shut himself off after sex. His mind ran through what he had just said, searching for something that may have offended Harry, but he came up with nothing. Shoving himself up, he tried to hide the confusion as he dried himself and followed Harry back into the locker room.

*~*

It was nearly a full week before they could see each other again. Between their differing training schedules, and a match each against other teams, there was just no time. Draco had blocked out Saturday morning for a meetup with Blaise and Theo, having not seen them for a couple of weeks as well. He sat down in the informal lounge with his breakfast and grabbed that day's issue of the _Daily Prophet_. Shock rippled through him at the headline.

_**HARRY POTTER'S NEW BOYFRIEND** _

Draco's heart thudded against his ribs. Placing his spoon in his bowl, he skimmed the article quickly. Harry had apparently been spotted with a 'mystery brunette' at some café the night before. The paper didn't have pictures, but they had interviewed one of the waitresses. It seemed like complete nonsense to Draco – he had it on very good authority that Harry preferred blonds – but that didn't stop worry from creeping down his spine. He gasped when the floo flared.

"Draco, did you say–" Harry cut himself off with a snort of laughter. "Are you reading the bloody _Prophet_?"

The surprise of having Harry suddenly standing before him – looking rather fit in tight jeans and a white t-shirt – sent Draco's mind spinning. He had gone from wondering whether Harry was… Well, no, he reconsidered. He _hadn't_ been wondering whether Harry had been cheating on him, because they weren't in a relationship. No matter what Pansy said. Shaking his head, he tried to clear it.

"What are you doing here?"

Harry's responding lopsided half-smile sent Draco's heart beating wildly for a completely different reason. His free hand clenched as Harry took a small step towards him.

"Are you keeping tabs on me through the papers, Malfoy?"

Still feeling a little off-balance, Draco was unsure whether he managed the haughty look he tried for as he waved the paper in Harry's direction. "You and your _mystery brunette_ , you mean?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "They could have at least been a little more creative." Reaching out, he swiped the paper from Draco's hand. His top lip curled as he scanned the front page. "He's a friend of Viktor Krum's. He wants to make the move to one of the English Quidditch teams, but doesn't know enough about the place to make the decision. Viktor wanted me to show him around a bit."

"Really?"

Draco hadn't heard anything about a new arrival. But then, would he hear anything if the man was going to try to join a team other than Puddlemere? He supposed not. The teams tended to be secretive about their trades mid-season. Watching Harry as closely as he was, he couldn't miss the small curve of his lips.

"Why? Are you jealous, Malfoy?"

The paper was tossed aside as Harry moved to push Draco back against the cushions of the lounge. Draco let out a breath that was part disbelieving scoff, and part pleasure as Harry's lips connected with the pulse in the side of his throat. His hands came up to grasp Harry's hips, holding him in place as he straddled Draco's hips. Tilting his head back, he hummed.

"What need do I have of jealously, Potter?"

Harry moved from Draco's pulse to nip along his jawline. "Ah, so you wouldn't care if I went out and slept with the entire Bulgarian Quidditch team, then? Good to know."

His tone was teasing, but it still sent a shiver through Draco. Despite the words, Harry still managed to manoeuvre them so Draco was lying along the lounge with Harry straddling his hips above. He leant forward, resting their foreheads together.

"He isn't my type, Draco."

Guilt shot through Draco's chest. He had no right to be feeling this way, he knew. They had agreed when this first started that it was casual. Just sex. That is what this was, not a relationship. Still, he couldn't help feeling reassured. He hated to admit it, but he _liked_ the idea of being the only one to capture Harry's attention.

_Point three._

Letting out a growl, Draco reached up and dragged Harry down into a rough kiss. He didn't bother trying to undress either himself or Harry, knowing that the position he was in made it too awkward. Harry didn't seem to mind. Breaking the kiss, he leant forward and bit Draco's earlobe.

"What are your plans for the day?"

Draco's jaw clenched as pleasure rocked through him. "I'm meeting Blaise and Theo in half an hour."

"Well, then," Harry began, amusement clear in his tone. "Let's see how many times I can get you off in the next twenty minutes or so, shall we?"

Twice; the answer was twice. They were still pretty much fully dressed as Harry collapsed down on top of Draco. Letting out a satisfied-sounding sigh, he stretched, relaxing into Draco's arms.

"That was fun."

Draco hummed. His body gave a small shudder, causing Harry to chuckle.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Mmm, you really should."

Draco's eyelids were heavy, causing him to continuously blink in an attempt to stay awake. He absently ran his fingers along Harry's back, tracing light patterns over his now-damp t-shirt. The silence they fell into felt comfortable to Draco, and he was more than willing to continue it. It seemed Harry wasn't, though. His hands clenched, scrunching Draco's shirt up and wrinkling it further.

"Draco, I…"

Draco forced his eyes open properly when Harry hesitated. Blinking, he offered up a small smile.

"Hmm?"

Harry, however, shook his head. "Nothing. You've got to run if you want to meet your friends. I'll catch you later."

With that, he was gone. Harry didn't even bother to straighten himself out before stepping into the floo and vanishing. Draco stared at the fire, the now uncomfortably familiar sensation of coldness washing over him. Sighing, he stood to head to the shower.

*~*

The following Friday night saw Draco standing outside a ballroom the Ministry had hired for the night. He was in full formal robes, with a tailored suit beneath, and his hair slicked back. It felt strange these days to be dressed so formally. But, it was for the good of the team. Or so he had been told. Raising his chin, he gave the reporters a haughty look before sweeping past them, ignoring all their pointed questions.

"Ah, Malfoy, good." Oliver Wood grabbed Draco the second he entered the ballroom. He didn't even have time to remove his outer robes. "Everyone else is already here."

"Did you ambush them as well?"

Wood gave him a pointed look. "Funny. Look, this is a great opportunity for us to scout new players for the mid-season trades. I know Harry has been seen out with that Bulgarian Chaser, but that doesn't mean we can't try for him as well. Now, look…"

Wood's words all seemed to run into each other as he spoke. Draco knew the spiel well from previous years, so he saw no reason to pay too close attention to it all. Instead, he nodded along while scanning the crowds for people he knew. Well, _one_ person he knew, if he was to be honest with himself.

The Ministry's Charity Quidditch Ball was a yearly event, and it involved every Quidditch team, no matter their position on the ladder. It was, technically, held to raise money for an orphanage, as there was an auction people could bid in, with the proceeds going directly to the orphanage. Most of the players used it to canvas for better positions, however. Draco himself had made the deal to trade over to Puddlemere three years previously at this exact charity event.

"Are you listening, Malfoy?"

Draco's attention snapped back to Wood. "Talk to people. Be nice. Don't embarrass the brand. That about it, Wood?"

Wood sighed. "I wish you would take things seriously."

Removing his outer robe and handing it off to the woman on the door, Draco smiled. "I do, Wood. This charity helped the both of us greatly just three years ago, if you remember."

Wood rolled his eyes. "What I remember is having some pompous arse dumped on me by the head coach and being told to play nice."

Draco's smile widened into a grin. "And you're doing a _fine_ job of it." Placing a hand on Wood's shoulder, Draco shook his head. "Don't worry, Wood. I won't try to alienate anyone who asks about the team. Not intentionally, anyway."

"That's not as comforting as you seem to think it is, Malfoy," Wood muttered as Draco stepped away.

Draco's attention was already elsewhere, however. The room was almost at capacity, as far as he could tell. The edges of the room were packed with people, all talking, laughing, and drinking. The dancefloor stood empty, but that was only to be expected at this time of night. His eyes scanned the room, but came up short. Harry was nowhere to be seen. Losing interest in the crowd, he made his way over to the bar.

The selection was… somewhat lacking. Draco settled for a glass of Ogden's Old Firewhisky before moving away from the bar. Nodding and smiling to several people, he took a deep breath, preparing himself to 'do his duty' by the team.

_Small talk with boring strangers. What fun._

He found himself thankful that he had gotten himself a drink before beginning his rounds. Crowds had never really been Draco's favourite thing, but it was the individual people who annoyed him the most. Smarmy business men, bored trophy wives, sycophantic yes-men, and overexcited teenagers: they were all at the event that night, and they all seemed to want to speak with him. By the time Draco had made his initial circle of the room, people were beginning to trail onto the dancefloor. Glancing down into his nearly-empty glass, he sighed.

As he was making his way back through the crowd to the bar, a surge of noise went through the room. Draco ignored it, figuring that someone had made a fool of themselves. Leaning over the bar, he ordered a double shot before turning to lean back on the wooden surface of the bar.

The people near him weren't bothering to whisper about whatever it was that had happened to cause the surge of noise in the room. Draco tried to tune it out – he saw no point in gossiping about his fellow players – until he heard a familiar name.

"Harry said there was nothing between them, though," one woman was frantically hissing to her friend. "He told me himself, I swear!"

Draco frowned. 'Harry' could only be one person. The bartender grabbed his attention, and passed him the drink. Draco nodded absently before moving off into the crowd again. Surely this couldn't be what his mind was telling him, right?

Tension crept down his spine as he made his way towards the dancefloor. People continued to murmur all around him, but Draco ignored them. He needed to see this for himself. When he finally reached the edge of the dancefloor, he began to wish he hadn't.

The 'Harry' people were talking about was definitely _his_ Harry. And _his_ Harry was dancing with that fucking Bulgarian Chaser. A sensation of lead forming in his stomach caused Draco to down the drink in one breath. Turning his back on the dancefloor, he stalked back to the bar, sat down and ordered another. The bartender gave him a strange look, but nodded.

"And keep them coming."

So. Harry was dancing with the man he had told Draco was a friend of a friend. It was fine. They were both perfectly within their rights to be with other people. He knew that. Hell, when this had first started, Draco himself had had three other men he had been seeing on the side. He ignored the fact that once he had broken things off with each of them, he hadn't gone out and found people to replace them. Instead, he chose to focus on the fact that _this was fine_. It was. Perfectly fine. Downing the glass in one breath again, he placed it on the bar, waiting for it to be refilled. Trying to force his mind away from Harry – because this was _fine_ , really – it fell to his plans for the next day.

He was due to see Pansy the next afternoon, and boy was he going to have things to say to her. _Fuck you_ sounded like a nice place to start. Along with _how dare you do this to me_. He'd been happy with how things were. He was happy being blissfully unaware of the fact that both he and Harry were apparently not seeing other people. And that they had apparently become somewhat domestic. Pressing his lips together, he shook his head.

"It's just a dance, Draco."

Draco jumped. The noise level in the room had died down a little, but it had been replaced with hissing whispers. He watched the glass be refilled before glancing to his left.

"He's a friend."

"Of a friend, yes."

Harry was leaning on the bar, his eyes downcast. His formal robes fit him to perfection, leading Draco to believe that some female somewhere had had a hand in choosing them for him. Nodding to the bartender, Draco passed his own glass to Harry.

"Thanks." Harry waited until Draco had another glass before him before taking a small sip. "We never said…"

Draco nodded into his drink. "No, we didn't."

Harry was silent again for a few minutes. Draco tried to sort out the squiggly feeling in his stomach, but came up blank. So, he waited. Eventually, Harry sighed.

"So… Do you want to…?"

Draco shook his head. "Not tonight."

"Right. Yeah, sure."

Draco waited for Harry to leave, but he didn't. Glancing back at him, he caught Harry staring.

"What?"

Harry was frowning. His eyes were locked with Draco's, and held an intensity to them that was difficult to look away from. Unconsciously, Draco held his breath.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, right?"

Harry's voice was soft, almost hesitant. A jolt ran through Draco's chest, and he forced himself to look away.

"Sure. I've just… I don't know. I'm not up to much conversation tonight."

He caught Harry nodding out of the corner of his eye. One of Harry's hands moved, almost as though he was going to place it on Draco's shoulder, but decided against it at the last second. Instead, it rose to his hair, messing it up and causing that one piece in the back to stand on end.

"Alright. See you later."

Draco heaved a heavy sigh as soon as Harry was out of earshot. He silently added _respects boundaries_ as the fourth point.

*~*

" _Why_ did you think that mentioning your stupid points system to me was ever a good idea?"

Pansy's knowing smirk made Draco's fingers curl, digging his nails into the palm of his hand. They were sitting in the parlour of Rothslyn Court, Pansy's family's ancestral home. It wasn't unusual for them to meet there, but for this particular conversation, Draco would have much preferred to have been at the Manor. Pansy shook her head.

"It's not _my_ system, Draco. It's logic; you've been told that. If there's enough about the person you are seeing–" She paused to hold a hand up when Draco opened his mouth to object to her wording. "–that attracts you, or is a reason you are together, then it makes sense that the relationship you have is a _relationship_."

"But…"

Draco sighed. He glanced out the window, watching as light rain pattered against the panes. Despite the weather, it was a bright enough day that they didn't really need candles or magic to light the room. That hadn't stopped Pansy from casting a glowing orb of light that hovered over them, showering them in a bright, pink-hued light. He turned back when she made an amused sound.

"How many did you count?"

His lips thinned. When Pansy grinned at him, he sighed again.

"Four."

"Only four?"

"I am fairly certain I've only seen him four times since the last time I spoke to you, so yes. _Only_ four."

Pansy's smirk truly was annoying. It made it feel as though she was telling him 'I told you so', despite the fact that she wasn't actually saying a word. Choosing to ignore it, Draco returned his attention out the window.

He was to meet Harry that night. They didn't have scheduled days that they met up; it was more of a when-we-both-have-time thing. The usual anticipation he felt before meeting Harry wasn't there this time, however. It had been surpassed by a sort of nervous energy that had Draco's muscles tensing at seemingly random intervals. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly.

"Draco?" Pansy was watching him with interest when he glanced over. "Are you going to tell him?"

He raised an eyebrow. "If I do and he laughs at me?"

Pansy gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Laugh with him, fuck him senseless and leave?"

Draco huffed out an amused breath. "You aren't much use in the suggestion department, you know, Pans?"

"I know."

She grinned at him and changed the subject to Theo's latest girl. While Draco was thankful for the reprieve, it didn't help to settle his nerves any.

*~*

The green flames seemed to follow Draco out of the floo as he stepped into Grimmauld Place that night. Brushing his shirt off, he glanced around.

The formal living room rarely saw use except for when someone arrived via the floo. Harry had mostly left it alone, with the exception of cleaning up the dust and fixing any broken furniture. When Harry himself didn't appear straightaway, Draco moved through the room and stuck his head into the hall.

"Harry?"

A dull thud followed by a chorus of swearing told Draco that Harry was in the informal living room. The door of said room was flung open in the next few seconds and Harry nearly stumbled out of it. Draco raised an eyebrow at him in question.

"Sorry, I er… I was talking to Ron and Hermione." Harry ran a hand up his arm, scrubbing the material of his t-shirt. "Rose is having teething problems and Hugo has colic and… You don't need to know that, do you?"

Draco couldn't help smiling. "It's fine."

That seemed to be becoming a mantra for him recently. The two of them stood and stared at each other for a few seconds, neither of them saying anything, or even moving. A strange tension seemed to be building inside Draco, creating a buzzing feeling along his nerves. It was Harry who took a step towards Draco first.

"So, er…" he began before pausing. He frowned. "Want a drink?"

Draco nodded. "Sure."

When Harry waved a hand and wandered back into the loungeroom, Draco followed. This room saw much more use and had therefore been properly cleaned and fixed up. It, too, had a floo connection, but it was only used for calls, rather than as an access point to the home. Draco moved over to take his usual seat by the fire. Harry handed him a glass – whisky, by the smell – and took a seat on the lounge. Again, neither of them spoke.

What could he say? Did he follow Pansy's suggestion and confess to Harry that he had stupidly developed feelings for him? Did he ignore the fact that Harry had seen him drinking at the Charity Ball the night before after witnessing him dancing with that Bulgarian Chaser? Did he address what they had said to each other the night before? He didn't know. What he did know was that whatever he _did_ say would probably set the tone for the rest of this relationship.

"Draco?"

Draco jumped. He managed to not spill the drink he was holding, but it was close. When he glanced over to Harry, it was to see him grinning.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to…" Harry waved a hand at him, shaking his head. "Sorry. Look, I… There's something that I've been wanting to say to you, but I haven't known how."

Draco felt his stomach drop. Alright. This was fine. Harry wanted to talk. Putting his glass aside, he opened his mouth, but Harry interrupted him.

"Wait. Look, I suck at, well, you know. _Words_ in general, really. I'm not that much of a talker because I tend to fuck things up. Like now." Harry stood up from the lounge and began to pace in front of the fire. "But, I was speaking to Ron and Hermione about it and they said I should, so I figured _fuck it_ , you know?"

Draco didn't know, but he nodded along anyway. It seemed the right thing to do.

"Right, so… Yeah. This thing I wanted to talk to you about. It's us. You and me. And this thing we have together. You see, I…"

He paused again. Stopping his pacing, he turned to face Draco. There was such an openness to his expression that Draco was fairly certain he knew what was coming. His heart thudded in his chest.

"Harry…"

"Fuck it, Draco. Look, I _like_ you. I want more out of this, this _thing_ than what we have. I have for ages now, but I didn't think you wanted to. But recently, I got the feeling that maybe you might…?"

A buzzing sensation washed over Draco's skin. Harry was standing before him with hope in his eyes, having just confessed to _exactly_ what Draco himself had been feeling. He licked his lips.

"I know last night looked bad as well, by the way. Anastas, he really is just a friend of Viktor's, you know. My coach wants him for–"

Draco shut Harry up by standing and scooping him into a deep kiss. It took a couple of seconds before Harry began to react, but when he did, it had Draco smiling into the kiss.

Harry opened his mouth, allowing Draco's tongue to slide inside. He tilted his head back and wound his arms around Draco's shoulders, pulling him close. Draco responded by wrapping his own arms around Harry's waist, holding him steady as they swayed. Pleasure rocked through him when a moan vibrated between them.

"Harry…" Draco's head was spinning when they broke apart. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to know whether the room was spinning or not. "I didn't know whether this was what you would want. It's been so long…"

"Well, now you do."

Harry leant in, sealing their lips together in another passionate kiss. Draco smiled.

_Number five: he made the first move._


End file.
